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1.1: Entrance
You stand in a wide hallway. The marble floor under your feet is cool but not cold. The walls are a neutral blue-grey, the tone matching the temperature of the room, not quite cold. It feels at once artificial and natural. The ceiling is high, easily enough to be three stories. The room is lit by ornate lighting fixtures; matching chandeliers. The hallway continues for about thirty metres, at the end of which is a fountain, reaching up to the ceiling. The statue of an angel adorns it. There are two simple wooden doors on either side of the fountain and slightly behind it. Behind you is a set of wooden double doors. These ones carved with abstract but apparently meaningless patterns. A mat is in front of these doors. It is patterned with various tesselations that seem to blend into each other, coloured in shades of red, and imposed over these patterns on the mat is the single word, WELCOME. What do you do? (Chapter 1 Guidelines) Jade is disoriented, to say the least. She also feels a rush of embarrassment as she notices the other people around her, and immediately wonders what they must think of her, standing there in her summer nightgown and clinging to a ragdoll. Her thoughts go along the lines of, Oh god oh god oh god what's going on where am I oh god oh god they're all looking at me oh god oh god oh god. For the moment, she can't do anything but stand frozen in position, hugging her ragdoll and shivering. After a few minutes, however, she gets her bearings and begins milling around, gazing around her at the other people. Chapter 1 Guidelines Giuseppe is on his feet and leaning against the back wall. Looking grave and perplexed, he tries to figure out what exactly has just happened to him - and to these others around him, it would seem. A ragtag group, he sees little connection between them all which might lead to their appearance here. He raises an eyebrow at one man, who seems exceptionally drunk, and is rolling on the floor while cursing excessively in German. Well, Giuseppe thought, this probably isn't heaven. Nathan blinks several times, hoping that the incredible scene would resolve itself back to the cliff which he seems to have just left. The last thing he remembered was the dream in which he'd been pulled away from Emily, and the clinging sensation of being dragged through something cold and semi solid. He is standing, clothed thank goodness, as surrounded by several other people, though his long overcoat was conspicuously absent. This is absolute bollocks, he thinks to himself. The hall would give St. Peter's basilica a run for its money in terms of silent grandeur, though it was a different kind of grandeur. More silent sentinel than temple of worship. He looks at his fellow compatriots. The youngest is a child, for the love of all that's holy! Why such a young boy?! The oldest is an old, though fairly athletic looking Italian, watching a sputtering drunken man cursing on the floor. A girl about his own age, terrified by the look on her face, is wandering around the rough circle, looking at the others. Finding his voice at last, and with his habitual shyness all but forgotten by the shock of this transition, he adresses the circle. "Excuse me," he says slowly but strongly, his voice echoing from the vaulted ceiling, "But does anyone here know what's going on?" He is amazed at his own ability to keep calm, though the room seems to be a safe enough place.... "What the fuck?" It was a situation so odd and unrealistic that those were the only words Sid could possibly muster. There were others around him, but none who he recognised. Where was he? Where was Jack? He looked around to see if Jack had ended up here alongside him, but he was nowhere to be found. He distinctly recalled that it was only himself who had erupted into white light back at the abandoned house, and Jack had merely looked on with surprise. The building was beautiful and grandiose, and had a majestic classical architectural aura to it, like something European. But the overwhelming feeling of supernatural awe suggested to him that this sure as hell wasn't somewhere in Europe. It was somewhere far more sublime. He had never been a believer in the supernatural, on account of the fact that he preferred to focus on the real, but now his definition of what was real was something he was forced to adjust. He recalled watching The Matrix a few weeks ago, one of his favorite films. Perhaps that wasn't just a movie, he thought... perhaps it was a sign from those who control the universe that Sid actually had been living in a simulated world, and this, wherever this place was, was reality. If so, damn them for programming such a shitty life for me, he thought. For a moment, though, he had the intense feeling rush over him like he was trapped here. He may never get back to his own reality and complete his goals there. All the bullying in the world hadn't made him give up and hadn't prevented him from achieving his violent revolutionary goals, but now he was being impeded by fucking supernatural powers?! Sometimes, he thought to himself, I really can't get a break. A mat said welcome. Who was welcoming them? And welcoming them to where, to do what? He noticed a drunk man rolling around on the floor. A man with an Irish accent started asking the others what was going on. "Beats me" Sid told him. If anything was enough to cause Sid to emerge out of his introverted shell, it was this. Circumstances like these were too much for his angsty yet emotionally controlled persona to withstand. After others got a chance to answer the Irishman's question, or to not answer, Sid proceeded to ask questions of his own. "Who the fuck are all you guys?! Where are you from?" Many of the rest seemed aghast, some unable to come to their senses enough to answer this query. As for those who answered, the responses they gave were scattered and disconnected. Ireland? Italy? "Maybe there's some kind of connection between us that led us here" Sid told them. "I just want to know what's going on and how this all works. I want to know who's behind it. And, most of all, I want to know how to get the fuck out of here and back to where I came from" Whatever the fuck had happened, it has sure left Fritz disoriented. His head is spinning and he begins to realize slowly that he was on the floor. Well. Only one solution for that. Fritz grabs onto the nearest object, which turns out to be a statue of an angel. Am I in a goddamn church? I really hope that some Good Samaritan didn't take me in and wants to give me a lecture about drinking. ''He grabs onto the angel's wing and pulls himself up to what could charitably be described as a standing position. He stumbles and has to grab onto the angel statue for support. ''Hell, maybe that priest would be right. Looking around at the strange people and stranger surroundings, the scientist groans. "Wait, I didn't take anything from those punks, did I?" he thinks out loud. "Maybe they had like, um, a contact high." What the hell? Was the first thought to pass through Ciaraen's mind as she stood in this rather large hallway, glancing around at the others standing around her. Unmoving, several other questions began running through her mind. Am I still dreaming? This is an odd place. Who are all these people? I don't recognize anyone... Am I supposed to recognize anyone here? None of them look overly important. I don't have time for this nonsense, I need to get back to the studio to teach my class. Hellooo me, time to wake up! Her thoughts are interrupted by some of the guys talking. Wait, no one else knows what all this is either? Maybe this isn't a dream. But how else could I get here? People don't decide to be somewhere else and magically appear there... Bloody hell. At least most of these people seem like they might be semi normal, except for that drunk ass there. What's he complaining about? Is he high on something too? Fantastic. Why can't someone else deal with this... this... ah, this is fucking ridiculous... '' No one really seems to have noticed Ciaraen for the time being since arriving in this strange place, as she has yet to say anything and is lost in her thoughts complaining to herself and trying to figure out what happened. Bruce found himself face down on an unfamiliar marble floor, with feeling returning to his numb limbs. Bruce began to listen intently to his surroundings, noting how many distinct voices could be heard echoing throughout the hall. He also checked himself for injury, finding the only damage he suffered was from his interrupted fall and that he was unrestrained and in possession of all of his equipment, including his firearms. He could tell this wasn't an interrogation room because no force that could have found him and kidnapped him would pull such a novice mistake as to let him have his firearms. Bruce checked his GPS and radio and found they both didn't work. ''Must be some kind of interference. German cursing and surprised gasps was the first thing he heard, although his command of the language was too small to figure out the exact meaning. The German cursing died down and was overtaken by a distinctly Irish male voice asking what was going on. A negative reply came from a mid western American accented male, who them proceeded to start swearing and demanding answers. Bruce got to his feet as silently as possible and fell back into old and ingrained instincts as he mentally mapped the room and its inhabitants: 3 exits, no good points of cover, 10 other people, none armed- civilians. Mostly Caucasian, 1 child, 1 elderly man, the rest young adults or teenagers. The German looks drunk and uncoordinated and the swearing American seems impulsive and angry. Keep an eye on them, they are the most threatening. The rest are panicked and uneasy. '' ''They must be civilians'' '''to not notice the hunting rifle on his back. It wasn't exactly subtle. '' Bruce started to wonder who did this. There were organizations he new that might want to hurt him if they knew he was still alive and many of those would not object to taking hostages. But the rag tag and multinational nature group of people milling around the large hallway, the lack of armed guards or information wasn't part of any of these group's MO. Bruce looked over at the almost serene elderly Italian man, who seemed to be the most calm and trustworthy of the civilians, that was leaning against the wall nearby. Bruce approached the man, put on a small smile and extended his hand “My name is Bruce Higgins, whats yours?" Sid noticed a man eyeing him suspiciously. A middle aged and somewhat tough looking man who reminded him of a grown up version of some of the bullies that pestered him back at Clarksdale High. Perhaps Sid's heavy metal Children of Bodom t-shirt piqued this man's interest, and he was some kind of conservative who disapproved of such music and associated it with evil and anti-social connotations. Or maybe he just smelled blood and viewed Sid as vulnerable in this situation--not unlike how bullies would pick away like vultures at the easiest targets. Was this man part of whatever force or group who was controlling this? "Maybe I'm in the future", Sid thought, "and the bullies have zapped me through to the future to torment me here! No, scratch that, they're not intelligent or technologically competent to do such a thing". Even after such inexplicable happenings as disappearing into white light, he couldn't let his mind race too far into ridiculousness. He had to focus on the situation at hand, keep his cool, and not lose his head. He'd already made himself vulnerable by breaking his cool earlier and loudly interrogating the rest of the group, asking for answers. This kind of outburst was what drew bullies to pick on him back in school. If he shut up, they would still pick on him, but flying below the radar always helped. A retreat back into introversion may be advantageous, he thought. He needed answers, but being loud and making himself noticed may not have been the best strategy at that point. He would get answers eventually, but for now, he had to think about his immediate survival, both physically and socially. Sid was careful not to make eye contact, but eyed this man back when he wasn't looking...a hunting rifle was strapped to his back. Sid recognised the make. He himself was completely unarmed save for a pocket knife in his right pocket--something he always took to school with him just in case the bullies ever beat him up to a life threatening degree. He felt in his pocket to make sure that it was still there. It was. He wasn't defenseless, but was severely outgunned nonetheless, in quite a literal sense. That tough man with the gun was introducing himself to an elderly man. Sid would have to either retreat into isolation or start making friends and allies of his own. He knew the former would be easier, as these people may reject his friendship. What is true in high school is true in life, he thought to himself. Even in the oddest circumstances. He looked around....which one of these people could he relate to in any way? Who had the most in common with him? Where is Jack when you need him, Sid thought to himself. It was like the first day at a new school, only in a far more remarkable and inexplicable situation. The drunkard didn't seem like the kind of person he'd get along with...he reminded him of an older version of the drunken party hooligans in the popular crowd at his high school, and whatever difficulties Sid had relating to people when they were sober were often amplified when they were drunk. There were a few pretty girls around Sid's age...and he never had an easy time relating to pretty girls. All the ones he had met exuded an impression of being elitist and full of themselves, as if they were too good to associate with him. He'd had enough date rejections to know that he probably shouldn't even bother with that crowd...plus they're all so vain and superficial and airheaded, he thought, maybe with a few exceptions, but at least ninety percent are. Solitude would have seemed like a desirable option in the past, but now that he'd made a true friend with Jack back home, it was harder to go back and retreat into complete introversion. He needed a friend, if only one. The Irishman, of course. He seemed like a calm and rational person, fairly close to Sid in age. He had been the first to ask questions, so clearly it seemed like he was confused as well, and had the intelligence to ponder over what the hell was going on and actually inquire about it. He just looked like the type who may have been bullied himself too, something in his eyes seemed to indicate that kind of emotional and intellectual fire that bullies just want to douse so badly. Sid walked over to him. "Hey. My name's Sid. I'm just a sixteen year old guy from Ohio who has no idea about any of this. How about you?" As the initial shock of his transition began to wear off, to be replaced instead with a constant sense of unease, Nathan fell into his usual method of operation: that being sitting back and observing. It was obvious that the other people here were just as non-plused as he was about who or what had abducted them, and what this place was. The three 'men' in the room could not be more different in their actions. The Italian looked almost serene, or at least unbothered by the entire proceedings. He was very athletic for someone who had to be at least around 70, and his eyes had a kind of self control that could rival the Dalai Lama. The German was still drunk, and that said about everything that needed to be said. He was middle aged, and by the looks of his clothes, hadn't been having a good night when he had been brought here. The other one, American from the sound of his accent as he introduced himself to the Italian, looked like he was about to take on an army by himself. Nathan had a feeling that he had a couple more nasty weapons stashed on his person aside from the hunting rifle slung over his back. He had spent enough time outdoors, particularly in the last year or so, to know that this man was clearly accustomed to surviving (in the most literal sense) in harsh conditions. The others were a hodge-podge of teenagers. One of the girls looked more annoyed than anything else, as if being pulled out of....where ever she had been, to be brought to a strange building via what he could only term as teleportation was nothing more than an inconvenience. Nathan was almost impressed in a way. Nathan looked around the room properly for the first time. The vaulted ceiling and the colonades reach high above his head. The end of thall is more of a rotunda, with the large fountain stretching high towards the ceiling. The only ornate thing is the fountain, and that's mostly due to the angel on the top. Water slashes down, adding its echoing chorus to the voices of the people down the hall. Something is making Nathans hair stand on end, but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out what it was. The statue was a beautiful piece of stonework: Flawless in its execution and form. The shadows that dance along it from lighting and water give it an even more organic appearance. And the face. It was... Nathan blinked. He could have sworn it was Emily's face. But it wasn't. It was just a face. Nothing distinguishing about it. He looked again, and it almost seemed to resolve itself back into the face of his departed lover. Then he blinked and it was gone. Shaking his head, he examined the floor, suddenly realizing what it was about the building that made it so unnatural. There were no gaps in the floor, as if the entire floor had been made of a single piece of marble. It was then that Nathan realized that the walls, and the ceiling were also devoid of dividing groves of marks. The whole catheral-esque room was a single piece. Nathan turned, looking down again as the teenager from before approached him. The kid was acting cool, clearly trying to regain his composure from his outburst following Nathans question. He seemed like a fairly average kid, though he looked like the sort of person you didn't want to have a grudge against you. His right hand kept brushing his pocket, as if to make sure something was there. The boy introduced himself as Sid. American, that wasn't surprising. Seemed friendly enough, but something about him put him on edge. He had a calculating look in his eyes, and that was usually not a good thing. "Nathan Harris, formerly known as the wolfman of Galway, Ireland. 19 years old, well, 20 in a couple of weeks." He paused for a second. "I'm not usually one for wordy introductions, and given the circumstances, I'm sure you'll forgive me. Right now nothing makes sense, nothing connects us together, I don't know any of these people, and apparently no one else does." He paused again. "What do you reckon that whatever brought us here is waiting for us to go through there?" he pointed to the doors with the welcome mats "at least they're friendly enough to give their guinea pigs directions." Jade, after getting her bearings and calming down a bit, began eavesdropping on the others' conversations. The guy from Galway, Nathan, seemed pretty steady, while the sixteen-year-old from Ohio looked like a typical "fuck tha police" sort. She ventured over to them and spoke up. "Why don't you go through those doors then?" she said to Nathan. "Because directions or no, I'm not going to be the first one." Tommy looks around the room in wide-eyed confusion. He clutches his fluffy Thunderfist-print pillow tigher for protection. He doesn't know where he is or who any of these people are. Not knowing what else to do, Tommy faces the wall and cries quietly. Nathan turns to the girl addressing him, who had clearly been listening to him. She is the one who had been wandering around since they had all arrived. Speaking jovially, almost jokingly, he says "Glad to know your so concerned for the safety and well being of others, ms... I'm sorry, but you haven't given me your name." He smiles at her, not a false smile but a genuine one. Now is the time for making friends, not enemies. Besides, something had to be the same for all of them, and the more people he converses with, the more likely he'd be to find out the answer. "Well," Sid thinks to himself. "Looks like someone felt they could just butt into our conversation. But it's too late now. She's in. Even if she isn't trustworthy, it's better to have her on my side than on the side of that man with the gun". "Excuse me" Sid tells Jade before she has a chance to give her name, trying his hardest to keep his voice down. "You have no idea what is on the other side of that door." He now adressees the two of them, still quietly. "Maybe the point of this is that whoever is controlling this is doing an experiment to see who will try to go through the door with the welcome mat first. I don't know about you, but I'd rather not be that person myself. I'm just wondering who it will be, and if no one wants to do it, will everyone start drawing straws or pressuring others to do it? Damn, this is just so confusing. I dunno. I am just scared of what could happen when we walk through there, because the possibilities are infinite. Who knows what could happen when someone goes through? Maybe they'll end up on Mars or in the worst neighborhood in Detroit. Or in hell...if such a place exists. Or heaven. Who knows? I never used to believe in the supernatural before, but this whole experience has basically forced me to deconstruct everything I believe in. I say we just stay here. At least here we know what we're facing...boredom, confusion and each other. I can deal with those things" "By the way" Sid warns them. "Don't look around. Just keep your eyes on me. There is a man here, he's white, probably around forty, and pretty tough looking. He's over talking to the old man right now. He has a hunting rifle. I'm not sure if it's loaded, but again, it's not something I'd necessarily care to find out. He was suspiciously eyeballing me earlier, probably because of my little tirade there, or my shirt. Maybe he just doesn’t like teenagers. Anyway, I don’t want to be starting divisions and confrontations here, high school has taught me firsthand how bad those can be. Just warning you guys" Sid looks over at Tommy crying by the wall. He feels genuinely sorry for Tommy but also sees this as a diversion to get Jade away from Nathan and him, at least temporarily. Just so he can establish with Nathan whether he thinks she is trustworthy. Sid and Jack were a two person crew...he's unfamiliar with the notion of a trio of friends, and at that point, a bit uncomfortable. "Hey, you...sorry, I didn't get your name" he asks Jade, "maybe you could go over there and comfort that poor kid? I'd do it myself, but I'd probably scare the little tyke, what with my grim reaper shirt and all" "My name's Jade Macallister, first off," Jade says. "And it's not that I don't care for the 'safety and well being of others', it's just that I don't want to be the idiot who bursts in half-cocked. I'm perfectly content to sit here until someone comes in to properly introduce himself and tell us what's going on. Until then, here I'll stay." She turns to Sid. "As for you, kid, don't flatter yourself. You're not that intimidating. Frankly, if I were going to shoot anyone right now, it wouldn't be the scared highschool boy who thinks he's a bigshot. And speaking of scared little boys, you're right about that little one. Someone needs to take care of him; he doesn't look more than four." Jade goes over to the small child and kneels down beside him. "Hey there," she says softly and soothingly. "Don't worry, you're okay. My name's Jade. What's your name?" "Ugh," Sid thinks to himself, reflecting on Jade, "why is it that the pretty girls always have to be the mean ones? Why can't I ever find one who doesn't hate my living guts right off the bat?" "What a bitch" would be Sid's deafult response to Nathan, but he figures rather than fighting fire with fire as he usually would, he'll take a more tactful and poised disposition this time. "That was a little bit uncalled for" he whispers to Nathan, once Jade has left. "I'm not trying to intimidate anyone, I just want to let people know what the situation is and prevent anyone from doing anything rash and stupid. I just wear this shirt because I like the band Children of Bodom, I'm not trying to be some kind of dark antihero here. And as for thinking I'm a bigshot, yeah right, I was like the least popular guy in school and I'm willing to admit it. I think that takes more courage than being all cocky and pretending like I'm some kind of badass when I'm just a regular kid who just wants to live a regular life." He pauses for a second to attempt to regain emotional composure, but just couldn't quite do it. "Jade reminds me of some of the girls I knew at school. I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt for now, though. I can understand being in an aggrivated mood right now, maybe she just happened to get sucked into an alternate universe while in the middle of PMSing" Okay, so much for tactful and poised. "Just kidding" This whole time, Sid ponders this whole situation to himself. A part of him hopes everyone will be as rational as him, and won't go off barging through the door, sending themselves to God-knows-where. Maybe he'll be able to make more friends and convince people to make a collective decision to wait and stay. Another, more selfish, part of him kind of hopes someone does go through so the rest get a glimpse at what happens. But no, he insists with himself. He won't let it come to that. At least not anytime soon...but if they're still there for weeks, months, with no word from whoever controls this place, then it will pretty much be inevitable that someone will eventually go through, he concedes. It will happen due to sheer boredom and curiosity if nothing else. Whoever goes through could get punished, but on the other hand, maybe they would get punished for NOT going though. Perhaps it was some kind of odd test to determine whether people are more afraid of staying where they are, or of going forward into the unknown. He begins relating it to liberalism vs. conservativism on an abstract level. He wants to scream out and yell at whoever is controlling this, demanding that they give an explanation and send him back, but represses his emotions and decides not to. He doesn't want to risk alienating himself from the others or looking more vulnerable than he already does. He does not want to start a conflict with the man with the rifle, but is afraid of him nonetheless, and wants to notify others of his presence to protect them. He is strictly on the defensive here, not on the offensive. Still, if he notifies too many people, word will get back to the rifleman, and there will likely be a conflict. Maybe he should just keep his mouth shut and avoid the guy. Maybe this worrying is all taking place over nothing. Maybe the rifleman is a totally harmless and even, daresay it, nice guy. Jayne opens her eyes from prayer, only to find herself surrounded by an unknown group of people in a strange place. Her first thought is that God has answered her prayers, and she looks around for her brother, Ethan, hoping to find him nearby, safe and sound, wherever exactly she is. Instead, she sees a strange assortment of people, who are shuffling around mingling with each other in confusion. Standing to the side for a few moments, she wonders if this is Judgement Day. If so, perhaps her brother is safe and sound, and she is… where is she? It didn’t look like Heaven, that’s for sure, although there was a statue of an angel nearby, and a Welcome mat with an interesting pattern. Shaking her mind from analyzing the mathematical properties of the tessellation, she crosses herself nervously, and she tries to find someone to approach. However, she is too shy to insert herself in people’s conversations, so she waits for them to pause before she says anything. She wants to ask them if they were praying before they were taken too, but can’t quite work up the nerve, and settles for small talk. The child is being comforted by a woman, and the two of them seem the most approachable to her. Walking over to the two of them she knelt down awkwardly next to the girl comforting the kid: “Hi, I’m Jayne. I think I heard you say your name was Jade. I don’t suppose you know what’s going on here, Jade. I was praying before going to sleep, but when I opened my eyes I ended up here.” In a slightly lower voice Jayne added: “Some of these men look pretty scary or weird, so I thought I’d come talk to you instead.” Jayne waited tentatively for an answer, and talked comfortingly to the child. “Don’t worry, we will all be OK, God has a plan for each of us, and I’m sure you will be reunited with your mother soon. Do you want to play a game with me while we wait? I see there’s already a nice ragdoll right next to you…” Bryce breaks from his stupor. In such an odd place, surrounded by these people, he just didn't know how to react. And why is everyone so calm? Well, everyone except the kids. Maybe they've all experienced this before... no, they seem as confused as him. Unless it's an act... no, that's crazy. Don't talk like that. "There's an explanation," he mutters under his breath "there must be an explanation." This seemed so much like one of the board's vaunted abduction stories. But it couldn't be. He sits next to the sloshed german. At times like these, it's always nice to know there's someone worse off than you. 'There's a word for that,' Bryce thinks, 'I'm fairly sure it's German.' That seems very appropriate to him. Giuseppe watches the armed man come towards him in greeting, offering a smile and a handshake. Neither are returned. "Voloni." he says brusquely, "Forgive me, but now does not seem like a time for formalities." He looks around at the others, who were steadily growing aware of their situation and mingling with a small few who'd caught their attentions. Only one remained still, Giuseppe noted: the young girl was either still dazed, deeply foccused in her own mind. He continued talking to Bruce , " Nor for buddying up. I'm not sure where we are, but I must doubt that it's a social club. Pehaps someone would like to bring about some order?" The last bit he says not just to Bruce, but to the entire group. He hasn't raised his voice so as to take on the role for himself, but the offer is audible to all those present.